what doesn't kill me makes me want you more
by downn-in-flames
Summary: Five times James used a pick-up line on Lily, and one time Lily used a pick-up line on James. Alternatively, five times a pick-up line didn't work and one time it did.


James likes to think he's good with girls.

He, of course, has certain things helping his cause, like the fact that he's a Quidditch player and that he had a growth spurt between third and fourth year and is practically as tall as most of the sixth years and that he's got a reputation around Hogwarts as a troublemaker, and birds are into that for some reason.

But beyond all that, he likes to think he's _good _at the whole flirting thing too. Chelsea Petersburg, that fit Hufflepuff fifth year, said yes when he asked her to Hogwarts, after all. _And _they snogged in a broom cupboard afterwards.

So from all that evidence, all signs point to this: James Potter is good with girls. And sure, that's from a very limited sample, but he definitely feels like that generalization is the rule, not the exception.

The exception comes in the form of one redhead by the name of Lily Evans.

James isn't really sure what it is about her, but he's absolutely worthless at anything even remotely resembling flirting when he's looking into her pretty green eyes. It's as if whatever piece of his brain that's usually responsible for all the smooth lines and witty retorts he's able to come up with in _literally any other situation _just gets flipped off in her presence, and he's suddenly only capable of saying the worst possible thing for the occasion.

He once told her that her hair was so red it looked fake - something that, at the time, he _thought _sounded like a compliment, but the very angry glare and hair flip he got in response swiftly debunked that assumption.

And the thing is… he actually _likes_ Lily. Not that he'd ever tell any of his mates that - they all seem to think that his constant failed attempts at flirting and asking her out are some sort of joke, and they find it bloody hilarious, so it's better for both his ego and reputation that no one knows the truth - but there's something about her that he just can't get out of his mind, no matter how many girls he takes to Hogsmeade and snogs in broom cupboards.

All of this has led him to this very pathetic rock bottom - he nicked a book out from under Peter's bed called _The Charming Wizard's Guide to Wooing Witches _and is reading as much of it as he can while the rest of his mates are serving detention for a prank that he alone somehow avoided getting caught for.

There's a whole chapter about 'Perfecting the Look' that has to be about as old as his parents (although it _does _explain why Pete's randomly gotten so interested in oiling his hair lately) but the part he _really _cares about is 'The Art of the Conversation.' Because while hairstyle trends may change, surely talking to women is timeless?

He gets about eighty percent through with the chapter before he hears a voice that clearly belongs to Sirius coming from the staircase.

"Shit!" he curses, to no one but himself, as he frantically slams the book shut and scrambles over to Pete's bed to shove it back to the place he'd retrieved it from.

He really would've liked to finish the chapter, but that'll just have to wait for another time. He's quite pleased with the amount of information he's already gleaned from this book anyways.

"Oi, James, you up here?" There's really no point in Sirius asking the question, because he flings the door open half a second later and has his answer, in the form of the aforementioned Marauder sitting on his bed with his Transfiguration textbook, acting like that's the thing he'd been reading the entire time.

"You missed one hell of a detention," Sirius says, upon seeing James. "Grubbly-Plank had us cleaning out fire crab pens - Remus almost burned half his hair off!"

"Only because _someone _thought it'd be a right laugh to try to pull a jewel off its shell," the other boy retorts, ruffling up his sandy-brown hair as if to double check that none of it had _actually _been singed.

"Sounds like a riot," James replies, dog-earing the page in his textbook, even though he'd literally just opened it to a random page a few minutes ago and could care less what page he was actually on. "Although I have to admit, as fun as watching Remus almost get burnt to a crisp sounds, I quite enjoyed my lie-in while you lot woke up at seven on a Saturday."

"Yeah well, screw you too," Peter chimes in. "You only avoided getting caught because you had the bloody map at the time."

"We haven't even gotten the enchantments right, Pete," James retorts. "The map is useless at escaping McGonagall - I just happened to be particularly sneaky this time, while you lot weren't."

"Or you just got really damn lucky." Sirius throws his cloak on top of his chest, before dramatically flopping onto his back in his bed.

James is about to argue with that - although even he can admit that it was luck more than anything that McGonagall didn't think to look for him in the locked second floor classroom - but Remus speaks first. "Now that we've found James, can we _please _go get some lunch? I'm _famished_ \- we didn't even have time for breakfast before detention started."

"Yeah, I could do with some food," James answers, running a hand through his hair to get it to stick up the way he likes it to. He's also got ulterior motives for wanting to get to lunch - there's a good chance Lily will be there, and his brain is currently full-to-bursting with conversation starters he can use on her.

"Thank Merlin," Peter says.

Remus and Pete lead the way down the stairs, through the common room, and out the portrait hole - they're obviously both _very _keen on getting to the Great Hall as fast as humanly possible. Naturally, James and Sirius fall into step behind them.

"Did you learn anything else useful about the mandrake leaf shit?" Sirius asks.

Er… "What?"

"You had your Transfig textbook out when we got upstairs, and I _know _you weren't revising on a Saturday morning, so I figured you were doing more Animagus research."

They've been doing this for almost a full year now, working through the process of becoming Animagi, and the thing that's been the downfall of them every single time thus far has been the fact that they're meant to keep a bloody Mandrake leaf in their mouths for a whole month. Which, when you're regularly doing things like eating and talking and playing Quidditch, is pretty damn difficult to accomplish. None of them have yet to make it a full month without accidentally swallowing it.

"I, er, yeah, that's exactly what I was doing," James replies, in a way that he _really_ hopes is convincing. "Didn't find anything useful beyond what we already knew though."

Sirius apparently buys it, looking sufficiently disappointed. "Ah, damn."

"We'll get there eventually though - I'm sure of it." They _have _to - Remus goes through literal hell once a month, the three of them should at the very least be able to get a stupid leaf to stay in place for a full month if only for the sake of that.

Sirius says something in response to that, but James doesn't hear much of it - they're entering the Great Hall, and James immediately starts scanning the heads of the Gryffindor students in search of a particular redhead.

Sure enough, she's sitting about halfway down the table, chatting animatedly with Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald.

"I'm going to go see how Evans is doing today," James tells his friends, with a mischievous sort of smirk that betrays none of his true thoughts.

Remus shakes his head in a slight admonishment of James' perceived behavior, while Peter and Sirius both laugh.

He ruffles up his hair one more time, and walks over to where Lily and her friends are sitting with, doing his best to exude confidence.

_Witches like a wizard who looks like he knows what - and who - he wants._

"Evans," he says, sliding into the open seat next to her. "Looking lovely today."

_Witches love compliments. They won't act like they do, but they do._

"What do you want, Potter?" Lily deadpans, looking over at him disinterestedly.

_Then, you pull out a line that reels them in like a well-cast Accio charm._

"See, I've been thinking about it, and I've come to the realisation that I need to learn Occlumency," he starts, waiting for her to take the bait.

Sure enough, she does. "And _why _do you need to do that?"

He smirks at her. "Because I can't get you out of my thoughts."

And this, according to _The Charming Wizard's Guide to Wooing Witches _is the moment you win them over. So now, James just has to watch as that happens.

There's a long pause before Lily replies, with an answer that catches James fully off-guard. "That is… truly, your worst attempt yet."

_What_? How was that his _worst _attempt? He'd _researched _this, and that line was supposedly a guaranteed win. What the hell? He's sure his face is clearly displaying his shock at her response, as he replies, "It was?"

"Yes, undoubtedly," Marlene answers, even though she was _clearly _not the person that question was aimed at.

Honestly, in retrospect, maybe he should've known better than to take flirting advice from a book about girls that belongs to _Peter _of all people.

"You could try it on Chelsea Petersburg," Lily adds, almost acidicly. "Rumour has it you two got _very _friendly last weekend - I'm sure she's _all over _your thoughts."

If he wasn't stinging from his failure, he might've teased her about that, told her that it sounded a bit like maybe she was jealous of Chelsea. But the truth of the matter is, something about the fact that he'd actually put _effort _into this attempt at getting at least _some _sort of a reaction out of her has made this particular rejection a bit more painful than usual.

On the outside though, he brushes off her response smoothly enough and just shrugs. "Maybe I will. See you around, Evans."

He can't get back to his friends soon enough, but when he does, he almost wishes he'd just walked straight out of the Great Hall again.

"Holy shit, James, you fancy Evans," Sirius says, almost as soon as he sits down with the three of them.

"I… what? No I don't," James retorts, immediately going on the defensive.

"You looked like someone shot a Killing Curse at your cat when she rejected you this time," Remus tells him matter-of-factly.

"I can't believe it - after all this time of taking the piss, you've _actually _come to fancy her," Sirius laughs. "I mean, Merlin, James, of all the birds you could choose to fancy… "

"Yeah, mate," Peter adds, pausing to swallow a bite of bread before continuing, "you're fucked."

* * *

James likes to think he's immune to getting pranked at this point. Really, with how long he's known Sirius, Remus, and Peter, it's pretty hard for any of them to pull anything over on any of the others anymore - they've all figured out each others' tics too well for that.

The truth serum prank was originally supposed to be aimed at the Slytherins - Slughorn had just taught the fifth years how to brew Veritaserum, and it seemed like the _perfect _prank. A bunch of snakes running around spilling their darkest secrets? Maybe even a moment where Snivellus confessed his creepy, obsessive love for Lily that literally everyone could see but her? Perfection.

But, of course, as was often the case with so many of their perfect plans, something had to go in and ruin it. This time, it was the house elves, who were much more resistant than normal to the boys' requests that they add truth serum to the snakes' goblets.

So the idea had been temporarily abandoned, and their massive supply of Veritaserum tucked away for another time and method.

And really, James had thought that was the end of it. Or at least, he never thought Sirius would think to use their stash of truth serum on _him_.

"Any luck with the transformation?" James asks Sirius, as soon as the other boy walks into the dormitory.

"Not yet," Sirius grits out, and James can tell that he's definitely pushing his friends' buttons right now.

The thing is, both James and Peter successfully completed their Animagus transformations earlier in the week, leaving Sirius as the sole one who hasn't yet accomplished the task. And given that Sirius is so often the naturally brilliant one, being the slowing to manage something has been driving him mad all week.

And James, like the incredibly supportive best friend that he is, has been giving Sirius shit about it nonstop.

"Well, I'm sure you'll manage it soon enough," he replies cheerfully, and Sirius responds to James' positivity with a glare.

Remus, sensing Sirius' annoyance and taking up his job as resident peacemaker, changes the subject to their latest Potions assignment. Peter is in the middle of some rambling comment about Golpalott's Third Law, when Sirius interrupts.

"Oi, I completely forgot about these - Maggie Hester gave me this box of chocolates earlier today. I made Peter try one so I know they're not laced with love potion, but I don't want the rest of them. Any of you lot want them?"

Sirius pulls out a garishly pink box from his bag, waving it in the direction of the other boys. To James' surprise, neither Peter or Remus say anything at first.

"Sure, I'll take some," he volunteers, if only to save them all from an awkward silence. "As long as I don't go around proclaiming that I'm in love with Hester, I'll take some free chocolate."

"The striped-looking ones are caramel, I don't know about the rest." Sirius flings the box in his direction, and it lands neatly on his bed. James opens it and thinks on it for a second before grabbing one of the caramel ones - his favourite - and popping it into his mouth.

"Moony, want one?" James holds the opened box out in his friend's direction.

Remus reaches out to take the box from James, and only then does James start to feel something strange - a random flood of iciness in his veins that disappears almost as quickly as it appeared.

"Oi, Prongs, what do you think about Lily Evans?"

Merlin, will they _ever _stop giving him shit about this? He's going to deny it until the day he dies, or the day she says yes to him, whatever happens sooner, and - "She's _so _pretty, and smart, and kind, and yeah her tits are on the small side but they're rather nice on her anyways, and I still don't know why she's friends with people like Snivellus but won't even give me the time of day, and - "

He claps a hand over his mouth, because it seems to be the only way to stop the veritable waterfall of verbal nonsense from spewing out of his mouth.

_What the fuck?_

Meanwhile, Remus, Sirius, and Peter are all laughing hysterically - Sirius looks like he might piss himself.

"What did you do, Padfoot?" James demands, and he's pleased when the words that come out of his mouth and actually what he _meant _to say this time.

"Oh, nothing," Sirius says, grinning impishly.

"That's a lie."

"You're right, it is," he answers. "At least _I _can tell one of those. You, on the other hand, have about… say, two hours at minimum of spilling your darkest secrets to everyone who asks."

"You're a dick," James tells his friend - and it's _true,_ because if it wasn't, James wouldn't be able to say it. He looks up at his other two friends. "I can't believe you two assholes went along with this!"

Peter shrugs. "What else were we going to do with all that Veritaserum?"

"Now tell us more," Sirius leans forward, propping his elbow on his knee, "about your thoughts on Evans' tits."

Oh, hell no. There's no way James is subjecting himself to two hours worth of blackmailable confessions at the hands of his best friends, who will almost definitely give him shit about every single tidbit of information they get out of him for the rest of his life.

He slaps his hand over his mouth again, muffling his response - because _honestly_, no one needs to know how much thought he's put into his attraction to Lily Evans - and promptly runs out of the dormitory.

While letting himself be interrogated by his friends sounds like a nightmare, so does being in the Gryffindor common room while still loaded up on truth serum.

Luckily, no one stops him when he full-on bolts through the common area and out the entryway - he's safe for now. He'll just… go hide out in a corridor and pray to Merlin that none of his friends think to break into his trunk and use the map to track him down.

What he doesn't account for in his attempt to flee from certain embarrassment at the hands of his best mates is the probability of running into certain embarrassment as someone _else's _hands.

He pauses by a tapestry on the fourth floor to catch his breath, and that's when he hears her. "Potter? What the hell are you doing?"

They're… well, he wouldn't exactly categorise them as _friends_, but she tolerates him more than she used to, their arguments are no longer _quite_ as explosive as they were in years past, and he hasn't asked her out nearly as much as he did in fourth year. Acquaintances is probably the best word for it.

"Running from my friends," he answers automatically, and it's in that exact moment that he realises he's in deep shit unless he manages to escape this conversation - and quick.

Because despite being 'acquaintances' or whatever it is that they are, the fact still remains that he fancies her something awful and James-on-truth-serum is even more apt to make a fool of himself than normal James is (and normal James doesn't have that great of a track record either).

She gives him an odd look. "Why?"

"Because they tricked me into taking truth serum and now I have absolutely no control over what I'm saying."

_Fuck._

Lily laughs at that, a smile spreading across her pretty features. "Interesting," she tells him. "Tell me what you think of me."

He should almost definitely run, or muffle his voice again, or do _something_ to save himself and his dignity, but his mouth moves faster than the rest of him can.

"That's a beautiful smile, but it'd look even better if it was all you were wearing."

… Bloody hell. _Bloody hell_. He just… he really just said that out loud.

Lily just blinks a few times, clearly just as alarmed by his response as he is.

"You know," she says slowly, expression largely unreadable, "I think I like it better when you lie a little."

"Me too," he replies weakly, really wishing that the castle would work its weird magic and just swallow him into the floor or something like that.

* * *

The first Quidditch match of sixth year is a nail-biting one - Gryffindor's new Seeker, Beatrice Jones, only just barely edges out Regulus Black in the race for the Snitch. It's James' first win as captain, and he's over-the-fucking-moon.

The afterparty is in swing even before he gets into the Common Room, and when he arrives, freshly showered and wearing a spare jersey, he's greeted with a chorus of cheers. And then, of course, greeted with a bottle of firewhisky.

And hell, he's earned this. He's earned a night of celebration after how long he spent agonising over coming up with new plays, over building a team after three of their star players graduated, over dragging his teammates out of bed at unholy hours to practice until their muscles ached.

But they won, and it's well worth it. So now, he's getting _plastered _tonight.

He makes a significant dent in the bottle through a game of Exploding Snap - modified to account for mid-game alcohol consumption, of course - and an even further dent as he and Marlene McKinnon reenact some of their best combo plays of the game.

It's easy, when there's alcohol running through his veins and everyone around him is talking and laughing, to forget about the world outside of these castle walls. To forget that there's a war brewing as a man who calls himself Lord Voldemort amasses a following and that there are new attacks practically every day now. To forget that his own best friend had shown up at his doorstep this summer, battered beyond belief at the hands of his own flesh and blood.

Most days, he can bear the weight of it; but sometimes, on nights like tonight, he needs an escape.

Maybe that's why he drains the bottle before he can think much of it, and the room is spinning just a little when he tries to walk from one end of it to the other.

As he's walking by the set of armchairs in the middle of the room, he sees that trademark auburn hair that he'd recognise anywhere.

After the events at the end of last year - and many, _many _profuse apologies on James' part and even one on Lily's that took him by surprise, they've got something of a fragile friendship developing.

But an intoxicated James doesn't care much for delicacy or handling things with care, so he heads in her direction with as much swagger as he can manage in his current state and takes a seat on the arm of her chair - almost falling off in the process but recovering smoothly enough.

"You know," he starts, and Lily turns her attention from people watching to look over at him, "my friend over there really wants your address, so he knows where to get a hold of me in the morning."

Lily follows his gaze to where Sirius is standing on the other side of the room, waving his hands about as he explains something to Remus and Mary. "Potter, we live in the same castle. And I know who Sirius is. And why would you…" Her eyes go wide. "How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Lily grins at him like she knows something he doesn't. "Well, they do say alcohol was the original truth serum."

Okay, now he's lost. "What?"

"The last time you used a bad pick-up line on me, you'd just been fed Veritaserum," she explains. "It seems you're making a habit of this."

"Did it work this time?"

She laughs, and he thinks - for what's definitely not the first time - that the sound of her laugh is damn near one of the best sounds in the world. "No. Next time, try to think of one that at least _slightly _works for the situation."

"I'm drunk, you gotta give me a break," he replies, leaning against the back of the chair.

"Give you a break?" she says, still smiling. "Never."

"Rude." He shifts his weight, and realises that they're so close that they're touching - and more notably, they've been like this, and Lily hasn't shoved him away.

That's… new.

"You played well today, by the way," she says.

"Was that an actual compliment? I can't believe it." He's well aware that a few of those words ran together, but Lily seemed to understand what he was trying to say nonetheless.

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one who's had a drink or two tonight," she replies, leaning into him even further. "Don't count on it when I'm sober."

He's probably going to ruin this moment in ten minutes or so when he inevitably has to run off and vomit or something like that, but for now, he'll count this as a nice moment.

* * *

James tries not to make a habit of spending too much time in the library - it's arguably the most boring place in the castle to do schoolwork, and the whole 'no talking' rule just doesn't sit well with him.

But he needs a book for his Potions essay - it's not due for another two weeks, but he needs a distraction, and writing at length about the effects and longevity of various love potions seems just mind-numbing enough to do the trick.

He has no intention of staying in the library after retrieving said book, but something in the Potions section of the library makes him change his mind. Or, more accurately, some_one_.

"Lily?" he says, just loud enough for her to hear and jump. She almost drops the quill she'd been twiddling between her fingers while apparently lost in thought.

"Merlin," she gasps, "you scared the shit out of me."

He sits down in the chair across from her, setting his book down on the table. "You must've been pretty focused on something then, because it's not like I exactly popped out of nowhere."

"I… yeah, I suppose I was."

"On…" he peeks over at the essay in front of her, "Protean charms?"

Lily looks down at her own paper, surprised, almost as if she's completely forgotten the topic of her own essay. "No, not exactly."

He props his elbow on the table. "Sickle for your thoughts, then?"

Much to his surprise, they've actually become pretty close over the course of the year. They're nothing more than friends, of course, and James isn't inclined to push that boundary any more despite his own feelings about her, but they've come a long way nonetheless.

She sighs, resting her head in her hands. "I just… I've been thinking a lot about life after Hogwarts lately. And… I just, I don't even know what I'm going to do - I've been around magic for so long that I don't think I can just go back to the Muggle world after I graduate, but so many Muggleborns just can't get magical jobs these days because everyone's scared of the war, and it's… just stressful, I guess."

"Evans, anyone would have to be batshit not to hire you," he tells her, looking her directly in the eye so that she knows he's being genuine. "You're the brightest witch in our year, and just because the Ministry's being run by a bunch of fucking cowards doesn't mean there aren't plenty of other places that will see _that_ and not your blood status."

"Yeah, I guess I know that," she replies. "It's still just kind of scary to think about though - there's just… so much uncertainty in the world right now."

James gives her a sad sort of smile. "Don't I know it."

At that, Lily's eyes go wide and she covers her mouth with her hands. "Oh god, James, I - Remus told me that you got a letter about your mum being ill, and here I am complaining about something as stupid as whether or not I'll have a job straight out of Hogwarts."

"That's not stupid," he assures her. "And I don't mind listening to you talk about it - it's a good distraction, honestly."

"So it looks like we could both use a distraction right about now," she tells him, closing her book. "Make me laugh. I'll consider it a success if Pince comes over and kicks us out."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "Are you suggesting breaking rules and getting kicked out of the library? Who are you and what have you done with Lily Evans?"

"Oh, shut it," she replies, childishly sticking her tongue out at him. "Just because I'm not going for the school record of most detention slips received by a single student doesn't make me a _complete _stickler."

"Whatever you say," he brushes her off playfully, before thinking through the task she's laid out in front of him. "Which side of a centaur has more hair?"

She hums, prodding him to deliver the punchline.

"The outside."

"You're going to have to try harder than that," she tells him, although there's already a ghost of a smile on her face from that one terrible joke alone.

"Demanding much?" he teases. "Fair enough. I live to serve."

The faint smile on her face grows a little brighter. "Good," she replies resolutely.

"I'd make a great servant," he adds, leaning back in his chair. "I can be your house elf. I'll do whatever you want and I don't need any clothes. "

There's a pause as the line sinks in, and then she starts laughing. Not loud enough to warrant Pince showing up and shooing them away, but enough that there's a _shhhh _from a few tables over.

"You really just have a never-ending supply of bad pick-up lines, don't you?"

"Memorised a whole book's worth," he answers - she'll probably think he's joking, and it's better that way. She doesn't need to know about his shoddy research in fourth year.

She smirks, clearly not taking him seriously. "Well, that explains a lot."

And that gives him an idea. "Do you remember that time Sirius tricked me into taking truth serum?"

"And you proceeded to use a horrifically inappropriate line on me because you literally couldn't stop yourself?" she giggles. "Yes."

He's mostly gotten over his embarrassment regarding that situation, so he lets her teasing slide. "Have I ever told you the story of how I got back at him for that one?"

"I don't think so, no."

Sure enough, within minutes, she's laughing so hard that tears are streaming down her face, and Madam Pince comes running up to their table and demands that they exit the premises at once.

He didn't even manage to check out that Potions book he needed, but it's worth it.

* * *

The Head Boy badge in James' pocket feels heavier than it actually is - and even with that weight, he can't help himself from reaching into his pocket to confirm that it's still there every few minutes, as if it's going to suddenly disappear.

It's all a bit surreal, really - he's still not sure what possessed Dumbledore to give him the badge, because there are surely people more deserving of the title than he is.

And yet, he trusts Dumbledore completely; the man may be a bit eccentric, but James has learned over the years that there's nothing that he does without good reason.

He's determined to take the role seriously - even if he doesn't think he's necessarily the most qualified for the job, there's no denying that the school needs some positive leadership right about now. The only thing he wishes he could change about the whole situation is the fact that his parents had been there when he'd got the letter.

Occasionally James thinks about how his father would've reacted, and the way his mother would've beamed with pride and polished the badge for him about a hundred times before the first day of school, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't tear up a little every time.

He misses them like hell; he honestly just feels lucky that he's got the support system he does, because he really doesn't know how he would've coped with their loss otherwise.

He's looking for one specific piece of that support system as he walks into Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

She's early, like always, with a book open on the table in front of her. Her hair is shorter than it was when he last saw her, and she's wearing an emerald-coloured shirt that's nearly the exact same shade of green as her eyes.

They've been writing back and forth a lot this summer, so he's been kept up-to-date with most of the happenings of her life and vice versa, but this one particular piece of news - he pats his pocket again for confirmation - seemed like the type of thing to tell her in person.

She looks up from her book as the door chime goes off, and beams when she sees who it is. "James!"

She closes her book and gets up from her seat to hug him. He's not really sure when this particular development happened - when they became the sort of friends who hug when they see each other and agree to do things like order a hot fudge sundae with two spoons - but it's who they are now and he's certainly not going to complain about it.

"How are you, Lils?" he asks as soon as they separate and walk up to the counter.

"About as good as I can be," she answers honestly. "Tuney's still a nightmare when it comes to wedding plans, and Snape's come around like three times in the past month still trying to make amends."

"I take it Tuney didn't like my idea of just eloping in the wood then," he replies, before turning to address the man behind the counter. "One hot fudge sundae, two spoons please."

"I'm pretty sure she would've tried to murder me if I even _attempted _to suggest that. James, what are you - "

James finishes handing the coins to the cashier. "It's my treat. I was the one who suggested we grab ice cream today, so I'm paying."

"You didn't have to," she says, but doesn't protest any more than that. "But thank you."

"No problem."

"So I've been doing a bit of sleuthing," Lily changes the subject as they walk back to their table, "and I still have yet to figure out who Head Boy is. It's not Remus, or Clearwater, and I don't imagine Dumbledore would've picked a Slytherin as Head Boy, so I think it's got to be Yang?"

James chuckles under his breath as they take their seats. "It's not Yang."

Lily looks at him, confused. "How do you know?"

"Because," he tells her, touching the badge in his pocket again for reassurance, "that's kind of why I asked you to meet me today. It's me."

James holds his breath waiting for her reaction. He almost expects her to start laughing at him, or to assume it's all some elaborate joke (because Merlin knows that was _his _first thought), so her actual reaction takes him by surprise. "You know, that actually makes a lot of sense."

He just blinks at her. "It does?"

"Yeah," she nods, pausing to thank the Fortescue's employee who brings out their sundae and spoons. "I mean, yeah, typically the Head Boy has been a Prefect in the years before, but you've got just as much leadership experience from being Quidditch captain, and you're top of the class in both Transfiguration and Defense, and honestly, who better to control all the troublemakers in the school than someone who _was _one of them for five years?"

"I suppose," he hums, although he's definitely glowing a little from all the nice things Lily's just said about him. "I still thought it was a joke at first."

Lily picks up a spoon and makes the first stab at the sundae in front of them. "Well, I think you'll be brilliant at it."

"I hope so," he answers. "Although I'm definitely going to need your help in learning the ropes and getting the rest of the prefects to actually take me seriously."

She swallows her bite of ice cream and grins. "I can definitely help with that. Although honestly, I'm not even sure the prefects are going to take _me _seriously."

James picks up his own spoon and looks at her skeptically. "I think you'll be fine. I don't know if you know this about yourself, but you can be _incredibly _intimidating when you want to be."

"I can?"

"Absolutely," he nods, looking solemn. "If looks could kill, you'd be a weapon of mass destruction."

It takes a moment for the line to register, and then she laughs. "How do you even know what a weapon of mass destruction _is_? That's a Muggle thing."

James just shrugs, and he can feel his cheeks heat up a little bit. "I've been researching Muggle stuff this summer. You kept mentioning things in your letters and I had no idea what they were or how to reply to you about them, so I started looking things up. And Muggle technology is _fascinating_. Some of it seems incredibly terrifying as well, but still. _Fascinating_."

The look on her face is unreadable, but there's a definite softness in her eyes. "That's… actually really sweet," she says. "I think most people just ignore it when I talk about Muggle stuff that they don't know about."

He shrugs, even though there's warmth flooding his veins at the way she's looking at him. "I like knowing about your life."

She reaches across the table and gently squeezes his hand. "Well, thank you. And for what it's worth, I know you're going to be a brilliant Head Boy, and I couldn't think of anyone else I'd want as my partner."

* * *

Seventh year has been unceremoniously kicking James' ass - balancing a Quidditch captaincy, Head Boy, and all his NEWT classes is a lot to handle, even for someone like him who usually makes everything look easy.

It's not so much that he's doing _bad _at any of it - although yeah, he fucked up the patrol schedule last month and slept through a morning practice two weeks ago - but it's more just the weight of everything that's getting to him. That, and the fact that he's constantly aware that he's spending all his time on things that so obviously feel like they won't matter as soon as he graduates.

There's a war out there, and he's going to fight.

But for now, his time is occupied with planning Hogsmeade trips and coordinating training schedules and writing a full foot of parchment about human transfiguration.

"James?"

He looks up at the familiar voice; sure enough, Lily's just walked into the almost-empty common room, books in hand.

"You were out late on a Friday night," he comments, setting down his quill.

"I was in the library," she sets her books down on the coffee table with a _thud_ as if to provide proof of that. "But while you're here, I need your thoughts on something."

She sits on the couch, curling up next to him, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders automatically. They've been like this for a few weeks now, right on the cusp of friends and something more, to the point that all of their friends have taken to regularly pointing out all the ways they act like a couple. All that's left between them is someone taking that final step and making it official, but it hasn't happened yet for some reason.

James keeps telling himself he's waiting for the right moment, but if he's really being honest with himself, he really kinda wants Lily to be the one that makes the move. He's been making his interest in her pretty obvious for years now, whereas the reciprocation on her end is much more novel.

"Okay, shoot."

"I was looking at the schedule for Hogsmeade visits, and if we do the weekend before Halloween for the first visit like it's always been done in years past, that's the same day as Apparition lessons for the sixth years. So that's a whole group of people who will miss the trip."

James hums. "And you want my input on…?"

"Should we move the trip to a different weekend and break from tradition, or leave it as it's always been?" she asks.

"I think the sixth years would all raise hell if we scheduled Hogsmeade for the same day as Apparition lessons," James answers. "People can handle a break from tradition if we do it the weekend before and everyone can actually go."

"Okay, yeah," she replies, "that's what I was thinking too."

She looks at the parchment he's got spread out on the table in front of him. "What are you working on?"

"Just some Quidditch plays," he tells her. "I kinda stopped coming up with things a while ago, so I haven't really been working on much at all."

She yawns. "Well, it's past curfew on a Friday night, so I think you're allowed to call it quits for the night at this point."

And because her exhaustion is contagious, he suddenly yawns as well. "Yeah, maybe."

As much as he probably _should _go to bed, he also doesn't want to leave her - he likes the way their bodies fit together so naturally when they're sitting together like this, and they don't often get many moments of solitude these days.

She looks up at him, biting her lip. "Can… can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

That seems like an odd question, so he turns it into a bit of a joke. "Kicking me out of my own bed? Okay then."

"I would never," she says innocently, then she suddenly smirks and there's a slightly wicked look in her eyes. "The only reason I would kick you out of bed would be to fuck you on the floor."

…

Did she just… did he hear that properly? He _has _to be hallucinating right now, because _he's _always the one with the awful pick-up lines casually thrown into conversation, and even his have _never _been quite so brazen, so this obviously has to be a work of his imagination, because she would never -

"James?" Lily tears him from his thoughts, and he realises that his expression likely shows the same level of shock as his internal monologue.

"I - did you - did I just imagine that?" It took him a few tries, but he congratulates himself on _finally _forming a coherent sentence.

Lily starts laughing, resting her forehead against his shoulder as she does so. "Your expression was priceless, oh my god," she says, between giggles.

Once she's caught her breath again - and James himself _still _hasn't managed any more words - she adds, "Who knew, using your own playbook against you has actually broken you."

He coughs. "I mean, can you blame me? That was _so _much dirtier than any line I've ever used on you."

She giggles again. "Yeah, well, most of those weren't used seriously."

James' thoughts come to a screeching halt once again. "You were being serious?"

"Yes," she responds immediately, before thinking about it for a moment. "Well, maybe not about the fucking you on the floor in a room with five other blokes, but the pick-up attempt was genuine at least."

"Well, consider me picked up," he replies. "Whatever that means."

"It means it's probably about time we stop letting our friends give us so much shit about acting like a couple all the time and actually, you know, be one," she says, suddenly looking slightly more timid than before. "If you'd like that, that is."

"I - yes," he answers, stumbling over his words a little bit in his haste to get them out. "I would like that a lot."

She smiles at him, and he can feel his heart hammering in his chest. "Good. Now can we actually go to bed now? I wasn't kidding about wanting to spend the night in your bed… _with_ you."

He can't get there fast enough.


End file.
